


Buckitto

by Plum_in_Cryo



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 03:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7388326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plum_in_Cryo/pseuds/Plum_in_Cryo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky hates the cold, loves blankets, and likes tripping people up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buckitto

Bucky Barnes hated the cold. He didn’t really have a reason other than it was cold, obviously, uncomfortable, and in extreme cases, made his metal arm stick to anything moist. Snow was alright, from a distance, ice on the trees was beautiful, in pictures, and biting wind…well that was never nice.

This morning Bucky had woken up and been cold. He had kicked his socks off in the night and somehow his blankets had defected to the floor. Grumbling and chaffing his arms, he got up and changed his thermostat. Usually, he only cranked the temperature to a balmy 75 degrees. Even on the coldest of days Bucky never turned it past 80. But today was a different story. He had been dreaming about the cold Siberian winter, so when he turned up the temperature, the thermostat read 85 degrees.

Comforted that it would soon be warm, Bucky went to the kitchen to make coffee and eat breakfast. By the time he had washed the dishes and dried his hands, balmy 85 degrees had turned his apartment into a sauna and he felt like a human hot dog slowly simmering over coals. As he wiped the sweat off his neck and face with his crumpled t-shirt, Bucky tried to change the thermostat to a temperature less befitting to the surface of the sun, but he couldn’t get it to change.

“Modern technology,” he muttered under his breath, wiping the sweat off his upper lip with the back of his hand.

“Jarvis,” he called into the air.

Here, Sir. The AI responded from nowhere. What can do to help?

“I want to change the temperature in here, but I can’t get this fool thing to work,” Bucky gave the contraption a frustrated cuff with his metal hand leaving marks that he hoped Tony wouldn’t notice.

Yes, Sir, I will see—Jarvis paused, as if he was thinking. Bucky knew he must have gotten new information and was doing calculations, probably about the spontaneous combustibility of human skin. Bucky had accidentally inhaled a bead of sweat through his nose and was coughing and snorting indeterminately before Jarvis resumed.

I am sorry, Sir, but it seems Mr. Stark has denied access to the temperature controls for anyone but himself. If you are still uncomfortable I would suggest a fan and flip-flops. I’m sure Captain Rogers has a pair if you do not—

“No thanks, Jarvis,” Bucky choked out. “I think I’ll go talk to Tony. Thanks for your…um…help.”

I aim to please, Sir.

And with that the AI was gone, and Bucky was once again alone in Saharan Africa minus the sun and the sand. Deciding that being a little cold was better than burning to death, Bucky grabbed his pile of blankets and headed to the lab. He had a bone to pick with a “genius.”

Wearing two blankets on your shoulders, one around your middle and one wrapped around your neck, head, and shoulders while walking up the stairs, is not recommended. Bucky stumbled into the common room and started to waddle-trip his way up the stairs to the lab when he heard a door slam behind him. The loud noise startled him at the very moment when he was trying to extract his foot from his blanket skirt long enough to go up one stair. Needless to say, he did not make it to the next step. Before he knew it, Bucky was near the bottom of the stairs lying on his face, tied in an inescapable knot. As the footsteps drew closer, he made a valiant attempt to free himself from his embarrassing predicament. Finding struggle pointless, Bucky adjusted his blankets to cover himself and laid still, pretending that he wasn’t there. Even though his face was banged up from his fall and he was in a pretty uncomfortable position with an arm behind his back and a leg pinned under him, there was one upside to his predicament: he wasn’t cold anymore.

As the footsteps came nearer, Bucky could distinguish a confident, even gait, and a strong, but gentle step, Tony and Bruce were approaching.

“Are you sure you can get it done by wrapping time?” Bruce was asking.

It sounded like Tony choked on his coffee. “Me? Not finish a project on time? Please Bruce have some—OOFH”

Bucky felt Tony’s foot hook on his free leg, a hand plant itself squarely in the middle of his back (Man, he hated it when people touched his sweet spot), and a cascade of lukewarm coffee and…was that Red Bull? Dude, you are going to have a heart attack before you turn 50, Bucky thought silently while trying to breathe through his soaked blanket.

“What the—“ Tony used a few colorful words that would have made Steve blush. Bucky heard Bruce help Tony up while he asked, “What the HECK is a pile of blankets doing on the stairs. Someone could get hurt!”

“Like you’ve never left anything lying around.” Bruce’s comment was nearly silent, but Bucky was sure that Tony had heard it and that he was giving his signature offended and affronted face to his best friend.

“Come on, Tony,” Bucky heard Bruce say as the men walked up the stairs, “Pepper wanted all presents in the meeting room by 3pm. You have a project to finish.”

“We have a project to finish,” Tony added. Bucky was pretty sure Bruce shrugged his shoulders.

Still pinned to the floor for fear of discovery, Bucky pondered the broken bits of conversation he had heard. The “Science Bros” as Clint called them were working on another project. Hopefully this one doesn’t end the world, Bucky thought. But wait, Bruce said ‘present.’ They wouldn’t be giving away a doomsday machine. They weren’t that dumb. Obviously, this called for further investigation. Bruce had mentioned a gathering in the meeting room at 3, Bucky knew where he was headed, after he changed out his soaked blankets.

When he was sure the coast was clear, Bucky wriggled out of his padded prison and bundled the blankets in his arms. If he hadn’t been trying to be inconspicuous he would go to Tony and complain about his stained blankets, but it wasn’t to be helped. Bucky trooped up to his room to get some new ones. When he opened his door the blast of hot air that hit him nearly made him fall backwards. It felt like 85 degrees had become 105 as Bucky walked through to get another bundle of blankets. He had planned on leaving the dirty ones in his laundry hamper, but in the heat of his apartment his small pile of dirty clothes had begun to smell, or was that smoke rising from them? He could only imagine how coffee and Red Bull stained blankets would smell after a few hours. Just to be safe, Bucky draped his new blankets over his shoulder and gathered up his laundry.

The laundry room was spacious and clean, four extra heavy duty Stark washers and dryers stood ready to accept soiled or stained uniforms with grass, dirt, blood, coffee, and lipstick stain removal features. Bucky threw his clothes and blankets together in the first washer and punched the buttons for coffee, grass, dirt, and blood stain removal. Turning, he draped his blankets over his shoulders and head. He had gotten pretty cold without them on, now their soft plush helped keep the chill out.

Bucky headed for the door, but before he stepped through, he heard Sam and Clint’s voices in the passageway. Bucky didn’t know why he did it, maybe he just wanted to be alone today. Before the men entered the room, Bucky had collapsed into a pile of blankets, again unrecognizable to the untrained eye. Clint entered the room first, carrying a large basket of laundry from the sound it made hitting the floor after he tripped kicking Bucky squarely in the ribs as he went.

Clint spat a few unpleasantries while Sam chuckled.

“What Clint, pile of blankets got your foot?”

Clint must have shot Sam a withering glare, because Sam changed subjects rather quickly.

“So what did you get Barnes for his birthday?”

HIS BIRTHDAY! Bucky had been so cold this morning he had completely forgotten that it was his birthday! That was the present that Bruce and Tony had been discussing. All of a sudden, being a silent pile of blankets was a difficult task.

Clint had grunted a reply too quiet for either Sam or Bucky to hear.

“What was that, Barton?” Sam asked pleasantly as he threw his clothes in the second washer.

“I got him a Winter Soldier action figure,” Clint mumbled to the laundry hamper.

Sam chuckled again, “Wow, I never thought of getting him a toy.”

Clint sighed, “Yeah, well it was Cooper’s idea. Have some mercy I just got off my mission two days ago.”

“Steve has had his present for weeks.”

“Do I look like Steve?”

“Nope, and don’t worry man, I don’t think Bucky’ll mind. He’s cool with a lot of stuff.”

“I hope so,” Clint said as he slammed the washer closed, “My kids made him some cards too.”

“I think he’ll like those,” Sam closed his own washer, and Bucky heard the click of all of the stain removal buttons, why Sam needed to remove lipstick stains Bucky did not want to know.

“What did you get him?” Clint asked as they left the room.

“What every man needs. Food.”

Bucky waited until the distant laughter died before he shrugged off his disguise yet again. He had just remembered what Bruce had said about “wrapping time” there was going to be a gathering in the meeting room at 3 about his presents, it seemed a shame not to attend.

After adding two freshly laundered blankets to his disguise, Bucky squeezed through the air vents into the meeting room and made himself an inconspicuous mound on the floor right before the first attenders came in. Bucky had expected to barely feel Wanda Maximoff’s light tread when she tripped over him. Yeah, he was wrong. As he found, high heels and his eye socket were not a loving combination. Though Steve’s heavy tread on his hand directly after having his eye impaled did not make him feel any better.

“Whoa, there,” Bucky heard his best friend say as Steve kept Wanda from falling on her face. Perfect gentleman, as ever.

“Thank you,” Wanda said, slightly flustered for having Captain America’s hands on her arm, Bucky didn’t blame her. It wasn’t every day that a girl had a perfect gentleman with a perfect smile with perfectly strong hands making sure that she was perfectly safe.

“Don’t mention it.”

Wanda walked across the room and sat down while Steve stood by the door warning everyone of the blanket hazard. Why Steve didn’t try to move the blankets, Bucky didn’t know, until Steve headed to his seat after planting a “friendly” kick masked as an almost fall in the center of the blankets. Steve knew he was there and was okay with it. Bucky had the best best friend ever.

Pepper cleared her throat and the meeting came to order.

“Thank you all for coming. This shouldn’t take too long, I just need time to make sure everything is ready for Bucky’s birthday party tonight.” Bucky could hear Steve shift uncomfortably in his chair, maybe the big guy was thinking allowing Bucky to hear all this wasn’t the best idea. But what could he do…flat nothing, so Bucky’s covers stayed unmoved.

Pepper continued, “First, presents. I told all of you if you wanted them wrapped that they had to be turned in by three,” Pepper tapped her clipboard with a pen, “Sam, do you have your present?”

“Right here.” Sam put his present on the table to a ripple of chuckles from the crowd. He had said in the laundry room that he had gotten some kind of food, but Bucky couldn’t place the sound that the three packages made, it sounded like cereal rattling in a box, but he wasn’t sure.

"Seriously, man? Captain Crunch?" Tony's voice was full of laughter.

"Mmhm," Wilson replied with his signature 'yeah that's what I'm doin' and no one can say anything about it' look.

“Perfect,” Pepper made a check mark on her clipboard, “Now, Clint, you weren’t here for our initial meeting, but Steve said that you would have your present today, do you?”

“That I do,” Clint said as he slid a packaged Winter Soldier action figure across the table along with what sounded like pieces of paper, Bucky knew they were cards from his kids.

“A doll, Barton? Really?” Tony’s laugh was not masked from his words.

Bucky heard Clint slump in his chair, “Hey, it was my kid’s idea and all I had time for.”

Pepper had taken a breath to silence Tony, but Steve beat her to it, “Bucky’ll love it Clint, I know he will. He’ll love all the gifts, because they show. you. guys. care.”

Bucky felt like the last four words were rather punctuated and he was pretty sure they were directed to the mound of blankets instead of the other Avengers. Truly, he was excited to see Clint’s presents. It amazed Bucky that any kid would want to talk about him let alone play with his action figure, and he couldn’t wait to see the cards Clint’s kids had made him. Clint’s kids were the frequent recipients of presents from all the Avengers and their thank you notes in return were greatly coveted. Bucky didn’t have any cards on his wall yet, but that would change soon.

Pepper asked Natasha next if she wanted her present wrapped, and Natasha replied that she could handle it on her own.

“Wanda, Bruce, and Tony, that leaves you three.” Pepper was consulting her clipboard and rustling pages. “Bruce, your present was wrapped last night, thank you for being punctual.” Bruce must have nodded and Tony coughed loudly. After a pause, Pepper continued, “Wanda, you weren’t sure of a present, but you said that you wanted it wrapped last time. Do you have it with you?”

“Yes, I do,” Wanda said in a bright voice, “but I did not bring it in here, because it was too large. I left it in my bedroom.”

“Alright, I can have someone get it, what is it?” Pepper pulled out her phone from her zippered front pocket holding it ready to type a command.

Wanda paused and shifted in her chair. “Um…it’s a large, heated…um stuffed duck,” she ended flatly.

Tony snorted the liquid he was drinking and continued laughing for a minute or so. Fellow chuckles join his while Wanda said, slightly downtrodden, “Steve said that he would like it.” Another hoot issued from Tony’s end of the table.

From her sharp intake of breath, Bucky guessed that Steve had taken Wanda’s hand in his own as he reassured her that her present was perfect. That just left Tony’s present (Steve would wrap his own). When Pepper asked Tony where the present was, he evaded the question expertly. After a couple of minutes, he finally admitted that his present wasn’t finished yet, but that it would be by present time. A frustrated sigh from Pepper was enough to move Tony out of his chair and into his lab instantly, ending the meeting, with Pepper assigning jobs to the remaining Avengers to ensure that Bucky’s party went off without a hitch.

Clint and Sam were in charge of setting the table, Pepper, Wanda, and Steve would cook while Natasha kept an eye on Bucky, and Bruce had to make sure Tony finished his present on time. Assignments given, the Avengers disassembled to finish different activities before birthday preparation went into full swing.

When Bucky was sure that they were all gone, and the presents had been removed from the meeting room, he cautiously emerged from his pile of blankets. He gathered his coverings in a smooth sweep of his left arm. With the other arm, Bucky wrapped the blankets around him and started to climb into the air vents, when he realized he wasn’t alone.

“You’re gonna act surprised, right?”

Bucky jumped and spun with as much grace as could be expected when swathed in blankets. Steve was grinning mischievously from his chair at the table. Bucky glared at him.

“Was that surprised enough, punk,” Bucky growled readjusting his blanket robe.

“You might want to tone it down a bit,” Steve rose from his seat and enveloped Bucky in a huge hug. “Happy Birthday, Buck.”

Bucky returned the embrace, holding Steve tightly. “Thanks, pal,” Bucky took a shaky breath, “It means a lot, just—thanks,” he ended lamely.

“You’re welcome, Jerk.” Steve chuckled as he released Bucky, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small neatly wrapped box. “This is for you. I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone.”

With breathed thanks, Bucky took his present and carefully balanced his blankets across his shoulders while he broke the ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a purple ribbon with white on it. Bucky pulled it out and breathed in quickly. It was a Purple Heart, his Purple Heart. Bucky looked up at Steve dumbstruck, but Steve just smiled and said “There’s more.” Bucky looked into the box again and carefully extracted another ribbon, this one blue. When he saw what it was, he almost dropped the box.

“Steve? No. I can’t take this. This can’t be mine.” Bucky looked at Steve questioningly with a Medal of Honor hanging limply from his metal hand.

Steve closed his friend’s fingers around the pendant. “It’s yours, Buck. I promise. The guys at the DOD wanted to present it to you at a big ceremony, but I wanted to give it to you personally.”

“Thanks, pal.” Bucky was still staring at the medal.

“You deserve this, Buck.” Bucky met Steve’s eyes and offered a tight-lipped smile. Steve flashed a grin and tapped the box again, “There’s more.”

Bucky placed the Medal of Honor next to his Purple Heart and reached back into the box. He pulled out two tarnished “U.S.” pins, the kind that go on a soldier’s lapels. Bucky was speechless.

“Steve, are these—mine?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, Buck, those came from your uniform. I’ve had them for—a long time. I thought it was about time they were returned to their rightful owner.”

Before Steve finished, Bucky engulfed him in an enormous hug. After a silent minute, Bucky stepped back and studied his treasures again.

Steve broke in to Bucky’s silent reminiscence. “Hey, pal, do you want me to take the medals and stuff and put them in your room? It looked like you were going somewhere,” Steve gestured to the air vent, “And I don’t think you’d want to lose them up there.” He pointed at the ceiling.

Bucky nodded and carefully replaced his treasures in the small box, “Thanks, I guess I’ll be on my way.” Bucky picked up his blankets and began to wind them securely around himself.

“I guess I’m not allowed to ask where you’re going?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow and an amused grin.

Bucky climbed into the vent. “Nope,” he said over his shoulder, “You’ll know soon enough.”

While he clambered through the vents, Bucky would have gotten lost, a couple of times, had it not been for the signs. Not signs like Tony’s voice in the lab, or Pepper’s cell phone from the kitchen, or Natasha’s quick step while she searched for Bucky on the common floor, no, like actual signs. It seemed that Barton had gotten lost too many times for his liking so he posted signs at the important cross-tunnels indicating his favorite hangouts. Bucky followed the trail to the team dining room, jumped out of the vents, deftly covered himself in his blankets, and waited for Sam and Clint (the table setters) to appear.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Meanwhile, Steve transported Bucky’s presents up to his apartment. Steve was in no way prepared for the Saharan climate that baked his skin and dried out his lips and eyes on contact when he opened the door. It was unnaturally hot. Steve hadn’t felt that kind of heat since the Hydra facility that he and Bucky escaped during the war, and there had been actual fire then. Quickly, Steve crossed the room and checked the thermostat, it read 110˚. Steve’s eyes bugged. He knew that Bucky had a thing about being cold, I mean the man was walking around wearing a blanket toga, but he didn’t dream Bucky would keep his apartment that warm. It had to be a mistake. Steve exited the apartment still carrying Bucky’s medals (he didn’t want them to get melted) and speed-dialed Tony.

“Capsicle, I’m in the lab, busy.”

“Yeah, yeah Tony, I was just wondering if you knew what happened to Bucky’s thermostat.”

“No, no Bruce that goes over there, not there,” Tony sighed, “Just give it to me—yes there. What Cap?”

“Bucky’s thermostat. It’s set for a hundred and ten degrees. I know he likes warmth, but that’s a bit much even for him.”

“Oh that,” Tony didn’t sound quite innocent. “Let me just say, he got what he deserved.”

Steve stopped walking. “What do you mean?”

“He goes around changing the thermostats all the time, this morning was the last straw.”

“Tony it’s his apartment.”

“I don’t care he needed to learn his lesson sometime.” Bruce said something indistinct to Tony. “Look, Cap, I’d like to help but currently I’m working on your buddy’s birthday present.”

“You’re not gonna fix it?”

“Nope. He wanted warm, he got warm.” Tony hung up before Steve could protest. Very typical Tony, working his butt off to make a present for the same person that he was punishing in a strange and silly way. Steve sighed and went to his apartment to drop off Bucky’s present.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Bucky had warmed up his blanket mound quite nicely by the time Clint and Sam walked into the room preparing the set the table. He thought he had positioned himself far enough from the door to avoid getting bashed, he had calculated wrong. Man, he was going to have to go to the infirmary and get checked out after all this abuse.

Clint let out an exasperated sigh, “Who keeps leaving blankets on the floor?” Clint turned and yelled, “STEVE, IF BUCKY CAN’T LEARN TO CLEAN UP AFTER HIMSELF, HE HAS TO GO!”

Bucky knew Clint wasn’t serious. He also knew that Steve couldn’t hear him, because Steve was off putting his medals away.  
After heaving another grunt of frustration, Clint bashed Bucky’s blanket pile again for good measure and began setting the table. Bucky was ever so carefully silently shifting his position away from the door when the worst happened. Sam Wilson entered the room, carrying a stack of Maria Stark’s china plates.

“Hey Clint, when we’re done with this we shou—“ Sam never said what he and Clint should do after their chore because at that moment, his foot caught the newly positioned Bucky mound. Bucky had inadvertently moved his mobile blanket fort directly into walkway around the table and he paid dearly for that oversight.

Sam kicked him in the ribs, tripping, causing the plates to fly from Sam’s hands. A yell followed with a loud string of curses followed with fervent prayers for the safety of the dishes flowed from Wilson’s lips. Plate after plate crashed onto Bucky’s blankets causing bruises and general discomfort for the blankets’ occupant. Bucky decided in that moment that for his safety he should make his presence known before he was trampled or crushed to death by any other falling object.

Bucky shifted to move the blanket from his face while groaning slightly. Sam screamed, and dropped the plates again.

“OH MY FREAKING GOODNESS WHO IS THAT CLINT IT MOVED IT MOVE OH MY GOSH!” Once Bucky’s face was visible Sam’s tune changed. “JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES IS THAT YOU! WIPE THAT GRIN OFF YOUR FACE!” But Bucky couldn’t, Sam and Clint’s terrified faces because of a blanket blob monster were some of the funniest things Bucky had ever seen.

Bucky laughed his fill while Sam grabbed a couple of cloth napkins and their holders from the table and threw them at Bucky’s face. Bucky, still chuckling, caught them and stood to replace them on the table.

“Got you pretty good, didn’t I, Wilson.” Sam glared at him. Clint clapped Sam on the shoulder also laughing.

“Bucky got you Sam, well got all of us actually.” Clint paused, “Have you been under those blankets all day?”

Bucky nodded. Clint blanched.

“So you?”

“Yes.”

“And you know?”

“Mostly.”

Clint and Sam exchanged looks.

“Don’t tell Pepper.” They said in unison.

Bucky chuckled, “Never.”

The Bird Bros seemed satisfied with this answer and allowed him to collect his blankets and leave without further incident. Bucky left to hang out with Natasha until dinner time.

A few hours later, with dinner eaten and presents opened, Bucky got in the elevator with most of his new treasures (Tony’s sound system had to be left in the lounge— the record player added twenty pounds of extra weight). He entered his apartment and instantly felt the skin melting off his face. He fell backwards into the elevator feeling his hair to make sure it hadn’t caught fire.

Bucky decided that for his health and safety he should not spend the night in his apartment. Steve proved to be hospitable, so Bucky ended the day much as he had began it, fighting off the chill in a pile of blankets. It had been a good birthday, a warm birthday, and Bucky Barnes couldn’t be happier.


End file.
